Learning
by stargirlie
Summary: Kristy is surprised to find that new girl Abby seems to know more about her than she does... very mild femslash. Complete! Ugh. You know, I've just realised that my summary doesn't exactly cover it all anymore. Oh, well.
1. Chapter 1

Hi! This is my first story on fanfic, so be nice! Having said that, all reviews welcome, even if you hate it.

**Learning.  
**  
The name 'Kristy Thomas' is synonymous with control. Look up 'control' in the dictionary and there I'll be. That's the way it's been for some time now. And I like it – scratch that. I love it. I love to feel as though I have the power; I'm in control; I'm the person calling the shots. I never in my wildest dreams thought that I could be even remotely happy if someone else were in control. This is why I panicked when Abby Stevenson moved into town. Because for some reason I knew right away that she was the epitome of 'control'. Control of the worst kind. Control that is hidden, to the point of being invisible. The kind of control where nobody knows they are being controlled, and therefore can't try to stop you controlling them. That's one form of control I have never mastered, and probably never will, because I like it when people acknowledge that I am in control.  
  
Abby gives off an aura of being relaxed and oblivious. But I know better. I know better because I can see it in her eyes, when she holds the power, I can see how much she loves it. And when she has that power, she loves to watch me, to see if I'm letting it get to me. At first I tried to hide it. But it was hopeless. Because she could tell. She could tell, and it took up too much of my time. The more time I wasted getting worked up, the less time I had to re-establish my control over the group. And I loved to see Abby's eyes flash like those of a tigress when I took back my control. It made her almost as stunning as she was when power and strength made her eyes light up with passion. It is a mystery to me why nobody else sees the thrill in both of our eyes when we are locked in a power battle. It's all in the eyes. A good controller doesn't show it in the rest of her body. But you can't fake the eyes. I have always been a sucker for eyes. Even in regard to people I'm not particularly attracted to. Like Bart Taylor.  
  
Abby once told me, with a teasing look on her beautiful face, that I didn't always have to be in control. I shot her a sneer and put it down to her being new in town and not knowing me at all well yet. But she was insistent. She told me that day, that the time would come when, tyrannical as I was to the rest of the world, as unwilling as I would be to admit it aloud, in my heart of hearts I would know that she had been right, that I didn't need to always be in control to be happy, and that when that realisation came it would be immediately following the happiest and most fulfilling moment of my life. She told me she was jealous, because she was the sort of person that had to be in control, even in situations when people should be equal, and it was exhaustingly harder to be that sort of person. I told her, without a doubt in my mind or a fear in my heart, that the day I realised I didn't have to be in control would be the day my whole world fell apart. She dropped the subject.  
  
And yet here I am, only a few months later, in a beautiful room in a beautiful house, laying in a beautiful bed next to a beautiful girl, following the happiest and most fulfilling moment of my life, realising that the sleeping girl with her arms around me was right.  
  
I don't always have to be in control and, surprisingly enough, I can be the type of person who, on occasion, doesn't even need to be equal.


	2. Chapter 2

Hi! First of all thanks so much to my reviewers, I'm glad you liked the first chapter. This was originally going to be a one chapter story, but I've changed my mind, so I'm sorry if it seems to go a bit downhill from now on. If it does, please still review and tell me - constructive criticism is more than welcome.

Chapter 2.  
  
Waking up in someone else's bed for the first time is a little disconcerting. Waking up in it naked, with another girl – a friend even – is downright weird. Which is why I sat bolt upright and gasped too loudly. It woke Abby, of course. She looked fine. Not at all shocked or anything. Then again, why was I? 'Because you like guys!' screamed one part of my brain. 'God, she's gorgeous,' said another. I tried to listen to both sides. That didn't work. I tried to shut them both out. That didn't work either. Finally, I let my head think what it wanted to think, and did my best to ignore all the confusion in my brain. I turned to look at Abby. She was smiling slightly, as if she knew what I was thinking. I was starting to relax a little when I heard voices come from downstairs. That got her attention. We slipped out of bed and quietly got dressed, then looked each other in the eye. An unspoken agreement told us not to say a word to anyone until we had had a chance to talk. I shut my eyes for a moment and tried to calm my nerves while Abby brushed her hair. On our way down to the kitchen, she struck up a conversation about sports. Neither of us was really in the mood, but I got the message – act normal. So I joined in. To someone who didn't know anything about sports, we would have sounded like we always do. Fortunately, Anna and Mrs. Stevenson don't. They greeted us both, and then went back to what they had been talking about. Perfectly normally. Like nothing had happened. No questions, no surprise at me being there. The only comment made, was Anna saying that she was glad we weren't fighting any more. Strange, but I couldn't remember ever having had an argument with Abby, although I knew that we had both been on edge the day before. I couldn't help grinning as I remembered how we'd solved that.  
  
Half an hour later, I was still in their kitchen. I was also headed for a nervous breakdown at any moment. I made my excuses, said goodbye to Abby as calmly as I could and left, promising to call later. As I made my way into my own house, I couldn't help feeling guilty. I was sure my Mum, at least, would be able to tell. So it was a shock, to say the least, when I got the same jovial greetings from my whole family as I do when I come home from any ordinary sleepover. A shock, but a relief.  
  
I declined breakfast, explaining that I'd eaten, and went upstairs to my bedroom to think. I thought about past relationships. Not that I'd had many, but enough. Enough to make me wonder what the hell was going on. I thought about Bart. I wasn't surprised to find that I didn't need long to think about him. I had known for most of the so-called relationship that it wasn't really one at all. Yes, I had been upset by the break up, but that had been more about losing a friend than anything else. Then there was Michel. That little something we started in Paris hadn't lasted long since we'd arrived home. Oh, we had tried, of course. We stayed in contact, we wrote, we called, we emailed, we even met up once. But it had never felt much like a relationship to me, and I guessed that he felt the same way, because after a while he suggested that we make it more of a penpal/friendship thing than a romantic one. I frowned suddenly and sat up, remembering. There had been something – a feeling – that I couldn't put my finger on at the time. Something that didn't quite fit in with what I thought I should feel. What had it been? I stared at myself in the mirror, desperately trying to drag myself back in time to that feeling. It came to me suddenly, and my mouth dropped open in surprise. Relief. I had been relieved that a perfectly wonderful guy, someone who actually found my faults endearing and had told me I was wonderful, beautiful and brilliant on numerous occasions had decided to call it all off.  
  
As I sat pondering this, wondering exactly where I was going to go from here, my door opened and an uncertain-looking girl walked in. I looked up at Abby, not having a clue what to do or say now. The look in her eyes said it all. It was time to talk.


	3. Chapter 3

Hi! Again, big thanks to my reviewers, especially to Solostarr, for reviewing both chapters. Thank you! Let me apologize for this chapter right now. I have included dialogue, and it's NOT my strong point.

**Chapter 3.**  
  
"Do you want to go first or shall I?"  
  
Suddenly even that decision seemed too tough to make. I took the easy option.  
  
"You."  
  
"Okay," replied Abby, looking a little nervous. She sat down on the floor and looked at her hands. "I've known for a while that I'm gay, but I've never been involved with another girl." Here she looked up at me, as if willing me to react. I saw something in her face that eased my mood. The same kind of panic, I think, that I was feeling. I slid off of my bed, and sat opposite her on the floor. I took her hands in mine and tried to give her a reassuring smile. There was nothing in that one sentence that shocked or surprised me. I knew Abby had dated a couple of guys on Long Island, but nothing serious. She had joked about them. I could also understand that at our age, even if you knew for certain you were gay, well, who could you talk to? How would you meet other girls? It's not like you could take a chance with a girl at school who you thought was cute. If she was straight, you'd have your whole grade giving you hell for God knows how long.  
  
"You're a little better off than me," I said, smiling shyly, "because I only realised I was gay about two minutes ago."  
  
"I figured that's why you ran off looking so freaked out... are you okay?" I thought about that. Was I? Honestly, truly, was I completely okay?  
  
"No," I answered flatly, "but I think maybe I just need to talk it over for a while." Abby nodded.  
  
"Should I go on?"  
  
"Sure."  
  
"I don't want you to think this was random, Kristy. I mean, I didn't plan it or anything," she rushed on, "but I didn't just sleep with you because you were there and willing either. I really do like you. _Like_ like you. A lot. And I have for most of the time I've lived here." I nodded. I knew already that she hadn't planned anything. It had been obvious. She lowered her head. "I wanted to tell you how I was feeling," she continued, quietly, "but I wasn't even sure how you'd react to me being gay, let alone fancying you. Up until last night I wasn't sure you were interested in me at all."  
  
"Up until last night I didn't think I was." I looked at Abby properly for the first time since the night before. "Abby, I'm not used to putting myself into situations where I don't have a clue what to do next. I don't know anything about this part of myself; I don't know what I'm feeling." I looked her in the eye, and felt suddenly perfectly calm as she held my gaze. "But I do know I want to find out whatever it is my head's trying to tell me. I do know that it's too much to think about all at once without talking about it. And I do know," I continued, blushing and looking down at the floor, "that I like you, too. As more than just a friend." I looked up tentatively, to find Abby smiling at me. She leaned forward and kissed me gently.  
  
"For now," she said, "that's all I needed to hear. Do you want to talk some more or should I leave you alone to think?"  
  
"Neither," I replied, looking at my watch. "We have to go and baby-sit for the Barrett/Dewitt family, remember? And," I continued, glancing down at the clothes I was wearing and grimacing, "I need to change. I wore these yesterday." Abby laughed.  
  
"Do you think you have that 'act naturally' thing down yet? Because if not, it's going to be an interesting day." I threw a pillow at her and grabbed a fresh outfit.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4.  
  
I really think we did okay. I mean, Mrs. Dewitt was totally normal with us, and the kids didn't say anything either. Kids are very quick to comment if they notice something amiss. So maybe we have this 'act naturally' thing down already. The journey home was a different story – Charlie drove us, and he seemed to know that something was up. He kept looking sideways at me, and glancing in the rear-view mirror at Abby. After a while, he gave in and asked us what was wrong. Nothing, we told him. Nothing at all. Long day. I suppose he was concerned that we weren't yakking away as usual. Even when we've argued, we still like to gossip.  
  
My brothers think that there are only three situations in which I can keep quiet. One is if I'm mad at someone, and am giving them the silent treatment. That doesn't last long. I'm more of a shouter. Another is when I've done something dreadful, or found out about something horrible, and I'm thinking about it. But then I usually have a certain face to match it, apparently. The third is if my face is otherwise occupied. Eating, tooth- brushing, laughing hysterically, yawning and making out are all acceptable times for Kristy to be not talking. Any other time and there must be something wrong. Therefore we must push and probe until she cracks. This did not bode well for my immediate future. I had to break the silence. But I couldn't speak my mind. I didn't think I should say 'Abby, come closer, I really really want to kiss you,' in front of Charlie while he was trying to drive. It might be dangerous. I leaned over and turned on the radio. That distracted everybody. Including me.  
  
Back at home, sitting alone in my room and trying to think, I was totally unprepared. One minute it was just me, the floor and a big white teddy bear I was hugging, the next I suddenly found myself sprawled and flattened, surrounded by my two big brothers. They don't knock. I've learned to get dressed without showing any flesh at all. After I had yelled at them for not knocking (a tradition), and hit them both over the head for scaring me, I calmed down, threw them a wounded look and ordered them to leave. They didn't. They wanted to know what was wrong.  
  
I could have told them, I suppose, but I was scared. Scared of how they'd react, that they might not be able to keep it to themselves. Scared that they might be disgusted or upset or angry. Even scared that they might be thrilled, or tell me that it wasn't a surprise. I tried so hard to tell them anyway. But the words just wouldn't come out. So I lied. I told them I was having guy trouble. They both backed off a little instantly. Charlie asked if they could help in any way. I told them, sure, teach me how to work out and express my own feelings, and possibly to read minds, too. That'd be a huge help. They laughed and left my room, telling me, whatever it is, don't let it get you down. I didn't dare tell them, but when I thought about the relationship I was starting up, I felt anything but down.  
  
Abby called at six. I don't know why I was surprised. She had told me she would call. I suppose because when a guy says 'I'll call you' it usually means 'at some point in the next three weeks when you've given up hope and sound all pathetic and desperate'. I always hated that. But Abby called. She told me that there was a new, cute little restaurant, on the outskirts of town, which not too many people knew about yet. We arranged to meet in half an hour to go there. When we hung up, a huge wall of panic hit me. I was about to go on my first official date with Abby. 


	5. Chapter 5

Thanks again to my reviewers! Please keep them coming... you wouldn't believe how insanely happy I get when I have a new review. Anyway, here are the next couple of chapters.

****

**Chapter 5.  
**  
It was hard. It was very, very hard. To be sitting across from one of your closest friends, someone you're used to talking to pretty much non stop when you're together, and to be experiencing that first date awkward silence thing with them, is very hard and very strange. There wasn't even that option of polite get-to-know-each-other conversation. We already knew it all. I've never been so glad to see food arrive in my whole life. And I wasn't even hungry. Oh, the perils of trying to date a friend.  
  
Still, the silence had to break at some point. Which it did. And when it did, it stayed broken. We must have been in that restaurant for five hours. We must have covered every subject there is. We must have learned more about each other in that one evening than every other day we've known each other put together. We were sitting in a secluded booth at the back, so we had privacy. We didn't see a single person we knew. Then again, we weren't really paying attention. There was a point on that date when a herd of stampeding elephants could have come past our table and we wouldn't have noticed. Nobody paid any attention to us. Not on the date, not as we walked home that night. By the time we turned into our street it was gone midnight, an hour past my usual curfew. I didn't care. We reached Abby's house first, and I walked her to the door. I looked around nervously, suddenly wondering things I had never thought about before, like, do any of the kids we baby-sit for up here have binoculars? How seriously do people take that neighbourhood watch thing? Can my family see me from two houses down? Then again, why would they be looking? Abby looked like she was trying not to laugh.  
  
"Kristy," she said teasingly, sounding overly patient, "It's late, it's dark and the outdoor lights aren't on. Nobody can see us, even if they are looking." As if to punctuate this point, she leaned down and gave me a long, slow kiss. I honestly don't have a clue how I got home; my brain never turned itself back on, and my legs were like jelly. But I did.  
  
Before I'd even shut the door, I entered a whole new phase of panic. It was that phase where you are insanely happy (just scored a home run that won the game, just got out of the hospital after being really ill, just got first call for baby-sitting club you set up, just had most terrific first date ever etc), and you can't stop grinning and inadvertently acting like you're drunk, but your brain has kicked in just enough to be screaming 'PULL YOURSELF TOGETHER! You're about to be ripped to shreds by your parents!' Which is absolutely no help whatsoever, because it hasn't kicked in enough to stop you from acting like a complete drip.  
  
"Kristy, is that you?" called my mother from the kitchen. I heard the scraping of a couple of chairs and the movement of people in my general direction. 'Oh, crap,' I thought to myself, looking in the hall mirror, 'they're going to come out here before I've even had a chance to think what to say.' Now, this is what I mean by drippy. I was thinking these things, while standing grinning into a mirror, and NOT EVEN BOTHERING TO WIPE OFF THE TRACE OF LIPSTICK I'D PICKED UP FROM ABBY. How dumb can you get?  
  
"Yes, it's me!" I answered happily, trying desperately to wipe both the grin and the lipstick off of my face. Mum and Watson appeared in the doorway.  
  
"You're home awfully late," said Watson, with just the hint of a frown in his voice, "where were you?"  
  
"Out with Abby," I replied, glad that I at least didn't have to think up a lie on the spot. "We went out to dinner at that new restaurant to see what it was like... sorry," I continued, looking up at them both and trying to look as if I really felt at all sorry, "I thought I'd told you." I could see them both relax.  
  
"Oh, it's okay, if you were just out with Abby," said Mum, and I felt the tiniest twinge of guilt, "it is late, though. Maybe you should go to bed?" Any other time I would have argued. But I felt too good to bother. I said goodnight and went upstairs, got into bed, fell instantly asleep and dreamed about Abby all night long.


	6. Chapter 6

By the way, I've changed this story genre from romance/general to romance/angst. You'll have to bear with me, I'm afraid. I'm not totally sure how this will end up.

**Chapter 6.  
**  
Such vivid dreams! I almost expected her to be there when I woke up. I was definitely disappointed that she wasn't. Even worse, I was awoken by Andrew and David Michael screaming from the kitchen for waffles at the top of their lungs. Okay, so usually I don't mind that. But this time it bothered me. Because I wanted to let my mind wander. I wanted to think of nothing but Abby. 'Well,' I thought, 'why shouldn't I? They can't sue me for sleeping in on a Sunday.'  
  
Of course, I couldn't actually sleep. But that was okay. You really don't need to be asleep to dream. And yes, I did hear all the younger kids ask (loudly) where I was, and yes, I did hear Mum and Watson tell them I'd been out late and I must be tired so they should let me sleep. I also heard Charlie and Sam ask how late, where I was, who I was with and a whole lot of other questions that were none of their damn business, obviously trying to get some info on my new 'guy'. Mum told them I was out with Abby, and I could hear the dissatisfaction in Charlie's voice as he replied.  
  
"Are you sure? They were barely even speaking in the car home yesterday."  
  
"Well, they were out a long time, maybe they were trying to sort things out."  
  
"I suppose."  
  
Thankfully, he didn't really have time to question further. He had an early date.  
  
I felt a tiny bit guilty about the little kids. I mean, I always play with them on a Sunday; it's practically the only day that I have that's almost always free. But I just didn't want to today. I wanted to be lost in my own world. So I decided not to worry about it.  
  
At noon, Mum came up to see if I was okay. Sleeping all morning is not usually my thing, unless I'm ill, and she was worried about me. Hard to say if she was less worried when she found me sitting on my bed, hugging myself and grinning, very much up but still in my pyjamas. She sat down on my bed, like she does when she wants to talk. I braced myself. She went straight for the kill. It's a family trait.  
  
"Charlie seems to think you and Abby were fighting yesterday."  
  
"I know." I answered, wondering exactly how little information I could get away with not giving. She waited, and then rolled her eyes when it became obvious that I had stopped speaking.  
  
"Well, were you?"  
  
"No."  
  
"Then why would he think you were?" She wasn't going to just let it go. I was going to have to offer up a little more than this.  
  
"We had just got out of a long job for a large family, we were both tired, and Abby has a lot on her mind at the moment. Charlie misjudged. We did tell him we were both fine." Well, it wasn't a total lie. I mean, Abby did have a lot on her mind. I just failed to mention that I did, too. Mum looked at me closely for a moment and then seemed to make her decision. She nodded.  
  
"Okay. Are you coming downstairs at some point?"  
  
"Sure," I answered, desperate to just get out of this conversation. The thing about my mother is that when she implies that she believes you, she can still make you feel like you're under suspicion. I used to love watching her do it to my brothers. I don't like it quite so much now that she does it to me, too. But then, I know she wouldn't if I told her the absolute truth about everything, all the time.  
  
She left the room giving me a long look before she shut the door, and I sighed. Realising that my day to myself was officially over, I took a shower, and then got dressed. I combed through my hair, leaving it wet, and went slowly downstairs.


	7. Chapter 7

Hi again! Heaps of thanks to all my reviewers, of course, please keep it up!

onlyme1: I wrote Charlie how I always saw him, but since his character wasn't particularly prominent in the books, I'm not surprised you saw him differently. Really, I only wrote in that bit because I needed to get their mother's suspicions started. But thanks for the comment anyway. :o)

Anyway, here's chapter 7. Hope you all like it!

**Chapter 7.**  
  
They weren't expecting that. Me, coming downstairs slowly, I mean. I usually run, and they yell at me to slow down. So I expect they thought that until they heard that they could say whatever they liked, without fear of me overhearing. But I overheard. And what, exactly, I overheard, I did not like the sound of one little bit.  
  
"I don't know, Watson, just _something_."  
  
"Well, you're going to have to be more specific. I don't know what you mean." Someone was cooking. I'm going to guess Watson, because Mum hates cooking, and if it were Nannie it would be accompanied by shouts of 'get out of my kitchen!' Also, I detected a familiar clacking sound that I couldn't quite put my finger on.  
  
"Just SOMETHING! Something is definitely not right with her, I can tell. And I don't like it. She's never like this."  
  
"Elizabeth, it's probably nothing. Maybe she's got a big idea brewing. You know how she gets then." Nannie's voice. So she was here. Oh, well. In that case, I don't have a clue who was cooking.  
  
"This seems... different."  
  
"Well, tell us different how, and we might be able to help work out what it is." Watson couldn't keep the smile out of his voice. Obviously, he thought she was making too big a deal out of this. Well, good. I tried to send him a telepathic message; 'keep it up, convince her, _please_'.  
  
"Well, she's acting all... flighty. Like she's up in the air. Not really seeing or hearing anything around her. And she had that same dopey smile on her face as last night."  
  
"Sounds to me like she's in love. Aha!" exclaimed Nannie, and the clacking sound stopped. Seconds later, Frank Sinatra came onto the stereo loud and clear. I had to grin. Frank Sinatra is Nannie's answer to everything. And Mum can't stand him.  
  
"She said she went out with Abby last night, Liz, and we don't have any reason not to trust her." Watson, the voice of reason. Considering some of the awful men my Mum dated before she met Watson, I feel very lucky to have wound up with him as a stepfather. He's unbelievably naive when it comes to teenagers. Not that I've ever taken advantage of that. It's just that it wouldn't be hard to.  
  
"She was over an hour late home! Are you forgetting how worried we were?" I couldn't help feeling a little bit guilty. I mean, I'd been out having a great time and my parents had apparently been sitting up worrying about me.  
  
"Liz, if that bothered you so much, you should have said something last night. We can't very well punish her now for something we've forgiven her for already!"  
  
"I'm not saying we should punish her. I'm saying we shouldn't be so lenient if it happens again, and also that maybe we should all talk to her. Find out if she really was telling the truth last night."   
  
"Well, if you want to do that," spoke up Nannie, "why not just phone Rachel Stevenson and ask her about Abby's whereabouts last night?"  
  
"Because Kristy is bound to find out that way, and besides, I'd rather hear it from her."  
  
"Well then," Watson said in his most decisive voice, "you'll just have to ask her. Again. Which she is not going to like."  
  
"I know. But if everyone does it, separately and cautiously, we might actually get somewhere. Mum, will you help?"  
  
"If you really think it's necessary," sighed Nannie, "but I don't like it. And if she tells me anything in confidence I'm not about to pass it on you know." The grin returned to my face. Okay, so I had to watch my step for a little while. But at least if anything slipped out to Nannie I could trust her to keep quiet. I crept back up the stairs and then thundered down them as usual. By the time I got back to the kitchen, I was greeted with nothing but silent smiles.


	8. Chapter 8

Hi again! Okay, first up, let me apologize for this chapter. It's not my favourite. To make up for it, I'm uploading chapter 9, too, which I think is better! Thanks to all reviewers, hope I get more lovely reviews (hint hint) ;-)

zooombiez: no, I'm not Australian, I'm English. I have relatives in Oz, though, and if you live there you're very lucky, and I'm jealous!

**Chapter 8.  
**  
It's odd being on your guard around your own family. I was discovering how uncomfortable it was to know that my parents and grandmother were planning to subtly interrogate me at some point soon. It was, however, quite funny to watch Watson try to bring the whole thing up while we did the dishes after lunch. He kept glancing at me, then opening his mouth, then shutting it or finding something trivial to say, like 'please pass me the cloth'. After a while, he put down the plate he was holding and turned towards me.  
  
"Kristy, is everything alright?"  
  
"Yes, fine, why do you ask?" I replied casually, trying not to smile too much.  
  
"Well," he cleared his throat, looking uncomfortable, "it's just that you seem a little... out of sorts."  
  
"Do I? Well, I really am fine. Great, in fact." I smiled at him as innocently as I could manage, continuing to dry and put away the dishes.  
  
"How's school?"  
  
"Okay," I shrugged, "the usual. Got an 'A' for that social studies assignment I turned in last week."  
  
"Oh, great! Well done, um..." he cleared his throat again, "and your friends?"  
  
"They're all alright," I answered, looking at him strangely as if I didn't know why he was asking. "Mary Anne's a little down still."  
  
"Of course," he nodded, "and how's everything else?"  
  
"Everything's good." I made sure to smile at him again, and he seemed to relent. He smiled back at me.  
  
"Well, if you're sure. We're just about finished here. Have you got any homework that needs to be done for tomorrow?"  
  
"No, I did it all on Friday."  
  
"Oh, well, go and have fun then," he told me, giving me a gentle push towards the kitchen door. I went. I went straight past all the rooms with people in them. I went up the stairs and into my bedroom. I went straight to my dressing table, sat down and put my head in my hands. I didn't have a clue where I had even learned how to do that. I'm not a natural hider of my feelings, and I hate lying and pretending. It makes me feel sick. I slowly sat up, and dared to peek in the mirror at myself. I was surprised to find that I could, actually, look at myself in the mirror. I took a good look. My face, which had been a little pale, was returning to its normal colour. I took a deep breath. Other than my down turned mouth, I looked just like I always do. No horns or anything. I tried a smile. That was better! I realised that I looked a little, well, ragged. Apart from my oldest, scruffiest jeans, I was wearing an old, torn, plaid shirt that used to be Charlie's, and my hair was a mess. It was all in my face. I hate that. Pausing slightly, wondering why the hell I was bothering, I changed my shirt and brushed and pulled back my hair into a ponytail. Then I changed into a pair of jeans that didn't look like I had owned them since I was six. I looked a lot neater. I don't really care much about clothes, mainly because nice ones on me tend to get ruined fairly quickly, but I do like to look tidy. All part of the good girl image, I suppose. I grinned at my reflection, and decided then and there to throw away those old clothes. They weren't even fit for a charity shop.  
  
As I straightened up my room a little, I tried to think what to do for the afternoon and evening. I desperately wanted to go and see Abby, but I was afraid of arousing any suspicions. As I was weighing up the pros and cons in my mind, I heard shouts from the backyard. I looked out of my window to see Karen, Andrew and David Michael playing out there. It cemented my decision. I'd leave Abby to herself for a while, and try to behave a little more normally. I grabbed my baseball cap and flung open the door, ready to go play with the kids. I found my Mum standing on the other side of it, obviously about to knock. 'Oh, boy,' I thought, 'it's time for round two...'


	9. Chapter 9

Sorry this is on the short side. Longer chapters coming, I promise!

**Chapter 9.**  
  
She didn't keep me long, actually. Once I told her where I was going, she immediately said that what she wanted to say could wait, and smiled at me approvingly, as if it were what she had been waiting for me to do all day.  
  
I had fun with the kids. Really, I did. I always do. But I couldn't get that approving smile out of my head. It sparked a nasty little thought that led me deep into the back of my mind, an area which I had never really paid a whole lot of attention to before. I thought all the time I was playing. I thought all through dinner, all through clearing up, all through a fairly benign conversation with Charlie about how his date had gone. And at eight- thirty that evening, after calling to see if I was welcome, I thought while I walked to Abby's house. Here is what was on my mind.  
  
I have always marketed myself as 'perfect'. I know that I'm not – not by a long shot – but I have always worked very hard to keep other people from finding that out. My friends are not fooled. They know about a lot of my faults. But nowhere near all of them. People at school, people who I don't really get along with, like Cokie Mason and Alan Gray, they think that I'm the average parent's idea of perfect. That's why they don't like me. I'm too goody-goody, too charitable, and too nice. They don't see or understand that I get money, power, control and a damn good reputation (which can be very useful) out of it. Not that that's the only reason I'm nice to people – it's just that it's a good extra benefit. My teachers (most of them, anyway) think I'm perfect, my clients think I'm perfect, and my parents think I'm perfect. So my question is this:  
  
What happens when they all find out that I'm not?  
  
Thinking about this for a whole afternoon and evening whilst still trying to appear perfect can be hazardous to your health. I was practically hyperventilating by the time I got to Abby's.  
  
"You think too much," she told me, bluntly, handing me a glass of water. "Stop thinking about it. Acting perfect comes naturally to you. You don't have to think about it – I know; I've seen you do it."  
  
"Maybe I don't want to be perfect."  
  
"Well good. Because you aren't. It's just how people see you. I don't think you're perfect."  
  
"You don't?" I had to smile. For some reason it was actually a relief to hear her say that.  
  
"Of course not! Do you really think I could love you if you were?" She realised what she'd said before I did, and began to blush.  
  
"You love me?" I whispered, half afraid that she would try to take it back. Abby looked at me and nodded, turning redder by the second. "I love you, too." I told her, and as she leaned in to kiss me, it suddenly occurred to me that I'd never been told I was loved, even by my Mum.


	10. Chapter 10

Hello again! Much thanks to reviewers, of course, feel free to submit more. ;o) Here are the next two chapters. This one contains song lyrics by Alanis Morissette (I apologize if it gives you the urge to kill yourself). They are in bold italic.

**Chapter 10.**  
  
Two hours later, I woke up in Abby's bed for the second time in one weekend. 'Amazing,' I thought, 'that you can start off a Friday night with 'let's eat chocolate and watch Thelma and Louise' and be up to 'I love you' by eight-thirty on Sunday.' I glanced at the clock next to me, sighed, and slowly got up.  
  
"Abby," I said, gently shaking her, "it's ten-thirty. I've got to go." She woke up enough to slip on her pyjamas and kiss me goodbye. "I'll see you tomorrow," I told her, already wondering what school was going to be like the next day. I left the house quietly, running into Mrs Stevenson, who was just arriving home from something or other. Honestly, I don't know how Abby copes, alone so much. It would drive me mad. I suppose it's not so bad when Anna's home, but she was staying over at a friend's house that night to get a big joint project finished. I explained to Mrs Stevenson that Abby had already fallen asleep and walked home happily, trying not to look like I had just single-handedly won the World Series. As I had suspected, certain downstairs lights were most definitely on, no doubt waiting to see if I would be home on time tonight. I walked into the kitchen looking as tired as I could (not hard, believe me), and greeted my parents. I stopped to get a glass of water to give them time to question me if they felt they had to. Apparently, they didn't think it was the right time. So I told them that I was going to bed, said goodnight, and went upstairs to my room.  
  
I think it was about two in the morning before I gave up on the idea of sleep completely. I had lain in bed for a few hours, and they had felt like an eternity. I couldn't handle just laying there, listening to my family sleep. So I grabbed a couple of my favourite books, my diary, a pen and my personal CD player, and crept downstairs to the kitchen. I made myself a sandwich, put my earphones in and lazily pressed play, wondering which CD was in there, since I hadn't I bothered to check. I was surprised, for some reason, and not exactly thrilled to find that it was my rather old Alanis Morissette CD. The song 'Perfect' came on, loudly reminding me of my earlier thoughts.  
  
_**Sometimes is never quite enough. **__**If you're flawless, then you'll win my love**_

_**Don't forget to win first place. **__**Don't forget to keep that smile on your face  
  
Be a good boy, t**__**ry a little harder **_

_**You've got to measure up a**__**nd make me prouder.  
  
How long before you screw it up? **__**And how many times do I have to tell you to hurry up? **_

_**With everything I do for you t**__**he least you can do is keep quiet  
  
Be a good girl, y**__**ou've got to try a little harder **_

_**That simply wasn't good enough t**__**o make us proud  
  
I'll live through you, **__**I'll make you what I never was **_

_**If you're the best, then maybe so am **__**I, **__**Compared to him, compared to her **_

_**I'm doing this for your own damn good - y**__**ou'll make up for what I blew **_

_**What's the problem... why are you crying?  
  
Be a good boy p**__**ush a little farther now **_

_**That wasn't fast enough t**__**o make us happy **_

_**We'll love you just the way you are... if you're perfect.  
**_  
If you've ever had that thing happen, where you hear a song that absolutely describes how you're feeling at that precise moment, then you'll know what I mean when I say it ripped my insides out. I turned off the CD, and wrote in my diary for a few hours instead. At 5am I crept back upstairs to my bedroom, got into bed, laid down and tried to prepare my mind for my first day at school with a girlfriend, paranoid about my family, feeling terrible about myself and on absolutely no sleep.


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11.**  
  
I was a wreck. And they noticed. They all noticed. The only one who commented was Karen. She asked me if I was ill. I looked at her strangely, and said no, but when I glanced in the mirror I had to admit I knew what she was talking about. I looked dreadful. Everyone else looked concerned, but didn't speak up because of the school morning rush. I was able to just slip away without any real probing.  
  
I was aware that Abby noticed, too. She asked if I was okay, and I was trying to form some kind of coherent answer when the bus came around the corner. Glad of the distraction, I muttered something about a lack of sleep, which made her look at me with concern. On the bus, she sat down next to me for once. As we were driving off, she asked me what was really wrong. I explained, in a whisper, about having to lie to everyone, and about the having to be perfect thing, and that it had kept me awake. She had heard it all the night before, but she listened anyway. No real words of wisdom, though. She had already told me everything she had to say on the subject. She did add that she was willing to keep listening to the same problem over and over again if I needed to keep complaining. Good to know.  
  
When we got there, I saw everybody standing where we always do. My heart leaped into my throat and stayed there. I started to feel sick. When we approached everyone turned to say hi, and promptly gasped at the sight of me. I've never heard such loud and synchronized 'are you okay's in my life. I could feel Abby turn to me, and I could hear her mind begging me to pull myself together, don't blow it. I opened my mouth to reassure everybody, and found that I couldn't speak. I tried to take a deep breath, and began to choke on it. When I stopped coughing, I found everyone surrounding me, looking more and more concerned, and I tried again to open my mouth and reassure them, but I just couldn't. I was completely and totally speechless. I started to panic. I have always been able to speak. Always. Even when faced with cat burglars, stalkers and movie stars, I can talk. My breathing became faster and faster, the noise around me drifted away slowly, and the world seemed to get gradually darker, like when there's an eclipse. That was the last I remembered.  
  
About ten minutes later, I awoke in the nurse's office. She was standing over me with something that smelled strong and not exactly pleasant. I woke up coughing.  
  
"There you are!" She exclaimed, rather unnecessarily.  
  
I discovered, through questioning her, that I had been carried to her office by Logan, who had happened to pass by with his friends just as I fainted. I also discovered, through a rather embarrassed-looking Mary Anne, who was standing to one side of me, that she had blended into the background and not been a whole lot of help once Logan had appeared. I wasn't surprised or particularly bothered. She's barely been able to look at him since they broke up. I then learned that if you faint in school, you get subjected to the Spanish Inquisition, Twenty Questions, and a CIA-style interrogation rolled into one, all designed to discover if you are anorexic/pregnant/on drugs, but without actually asking you outright. Having ruled out all of those, the nurse began scratching her head, and eventually repeating herself. She told me at least six times that anything I told her was confidential. I hate it when people don't believe you, based solely on your age. When the bell rang, Mary Anne had to leave. With her gone, the questions started all over again. I felt like screaming. But at the same time, it was a nice diversion from my thoughts. I began to calm down, and as I did I became more alert, more able to give convincing answers. After a while, she gave in and let me go to class, telling me that her door was always open, and then shutting it firmly behind me. 


	12. Chapter 12

Hi! Thanks again to all reviewers: keep up the good work! Here are the next couple of chapters... I hope you like them. ;o)

**Chapter 12.  
**  
I got through most of the morning without too much trouble. For once in my life, I actually felt glad that my teachers were strict about not talking. It meant that nobody could ask me questions, which I could tell they were all dying to. Word gets around very quickly in schools. Everyone already knew that I'd fainted. I got concerned looks from all of my teachers as I walked into every classroom, and there were whispers and rumours everywhere I went.  
  
At first it didn't bother me, but after a while I started to feel panicked again. I snapped at anyone who asked me a personal question, I yelled at six different people when they asked me about the rumours they had heard, which were completely ridiculous, as anyone who has been subjected to a middle school rumour mill will understand, and I completely ignored anyone and everyone who didn't speak to me. I did find a brief moment to calm down and thank Logan for his help, but I must have looked dreadful, because even he looked worried about me. By lunchtime, I was back at square one, actually feeling worse than I had before I'd come to school.  
  
I headed to the cafeteria with Mary Anne, who is in my Social Studies class, right before lunch. She looked as if she wanted to ask if I was okay, but was terrified of the outcome. I suppose my bad mood must have spread all over the school as quickly as my fainting episode had.  
  
We walked into the cafeteria, and I swear to God the whole place quietened. I have never felt so many people looking at me in my life. After a couple of seconds everyone seemed to go back to normal, and Mary Anne and I bought our lunch and went to sit with the whole group.  
  
When we got there, everyone glanced up, nervously said hi, and then busied themselves with their food. I sighed. I was going to have to say something. I thought carefully for a moment, and then spoke up. I told them I had been having a really strange weekend – not bad, just strange (I saw Abby hide a smile). Then I told them that I had only got mad at the whole school because I had got sick of being questioned. They all visibly relaxed. Finally, I reassured them that my fainting episode had been nothing to worry about, that I was fine, and if I wasn't, the nurse wouldn't have let me go to class, would she?  
  
Everyone calmed down, and went on with their eating. After a minute or two, I started to relax. After all, these were my friends. What did I have to worry about?  
  
I soon found out. We were about fifteen minutes into lunch when they decided that I had relaxed enough to be questioned again. If it had been one at a time, I may have been able to handle it. But it wasn't. It was all of them at once. When I got angry, or gave evasive answers, they got louder, and our table gathered more and more attention. People from all around us began to join in. I could hear Abby's voice getting lost in the noise around me, begging everyone to leave me alone. No-one was listening to her. I wanted to tell them all to shut up, but for some reason I couldn't. My brain tried desperately to process all of the questions and all of my thoughts, and eventually it gave up. I put my hands over my ears to block out the noise, and shut my eyes to calm myself down. I tried to take long, slow breaths, and found that I was way past that. I could hear the voices around me change from nosy and probing to worried and concerned. I wanted so badly to just be okay. But as the noise drifted away and everything started to go dark, I knew there was nothing I could do to stop it from happening all over again. I felt completely and totally powerless. My last thought before I blacked out completely, was that it was a surprisingly relaxing feeling.


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter 13.  
**  
One faint is a worry. Two in one day is apparently a big problem requiring attention from not only the nurse, but also my homeroom teacher, the deputy head, and my parents. Yes, they called home. While I was unconscious, actually. I was told this when I awoke. This time, Pete Black had carried me to the nurse's office, and half of the eighth grade had followed. Thankfully, they had all been shooed away, except for my friends. This time, I'd been out cold for fifteen minutes. By the time I woke up, Stacey had gone to finish eating, Abby had had to go and see a teacher, Mary Anne had been sent to collect all of my stuff, and Claudia had given them my phone number and gone to collect my homework for the rest of the day. Pete was sitting in a chair not too far from me. The nurse, Mr Kingbridge, and Mrs Simon were in a closed-off part of the office, so I couldn't hear what they were saying.  
  
I tried to sit up, and Pete looked up from the magazine he had been reading. He gave me a grin, and asked if I was okay. He's a friend, sort of. We don't really hang out much any more, but I've known him since preschool, and we've always got along. I was glad he was there, and not someone else. Pete isn't nosy and demanding like other people. He believes firmly in minding your own business, unless there's a crime involved. I told him I was fine, just embarrassed, and thanked him for his help. He nodded and shrugged, which is his version of saying 'you're welcome, and if you don't want to talk about it, that's fine with me.' I gave him a smile and rolled my eyes as the nurse and others came bustling in. He got up to leave, telling me to feel better soon, and enjoy the afternoon off I had just managed to land myself, before escaping to the safety of the hallway. I heard him greet Nannie outside the door, and felt a little relief crawl into my mind. I mean, at least it wasn't Mum or Watson. Mum would have questioned me into a nervous breakdown, and Watson would have been over-the-top worried. Nannie would take it as it was: just a faint.  
  
Which she did. She walked into the room, took one look at me, and said:  
  
"She looks fine to me."  
  
The nurse opened her mouth to speak, and then glanced at me. Nannie can be very abrupt, and nobody seemed to know how to start. I took advantage.  
  
"I _am_ fine. I only fainted. It's not that big a deal. I would've told them not to call, but I was unconscious when they did." Here, Mrs Simon found her voice.  
  
"We might have let it go, if it were an isolated incident. But it wasn't. She fainted first thing this morning, too." Nannie's eyebrows shot up, and she looked at me with new concern. Damn.  
  
"You weren't called then," continued Mr Kingbridge, "because she recovered quickly and seemed fine. She's been a little on edge this morning, but apart from that there didn't appear to be any problems." At this point, two things happened. First of all, I gave up all hope of convincing anyone that I was okay. Second, in came Mary Anne and Claudia with all of my stuff, homework included. They were both very verbal with their relief that I was awake and well. Which didn't help. Nannie made her mind up. She looked at me closely, nodded, greeted my friends, thanked my teachers, and before I knew it she had guided me out of the school, across the car park and into the Pink Clinker.  
  
As she started the car, she asked if I had eaten lunch, or just fallen into it. She was smiling slightly. I told her I hadn't really had the time. She nodded briskly, and drove me to a nice, quiet, friendly restaurant that she knows I like. In the car park, before we got out of the car, she asked how I was feeling, and if I knew what was wrong with me. I told her the truth: I was fine, and yes, I knew what was wrong. She nodded again, and took me inside. I knew she wasn't finished. But it looked like for now, at least, she would just leave me to tell her what was wrong in my own time. 


	14. Chapter 14

Hello again! As usual, huge thanks to all who've reviewed. Not sure about parts of this chapter, so I'm going to post it before I rewrite it for the millionth time. Putting up chapter 15, too. Reviewers will be adored and worshipped, constructive criticism is welcome, but so is pointless flattery. Hope you like! ;o)

**Chapter 14.**  
  
She wanted to ask all of the same questions as the school had, I could tell. As Nannie sat opposite me in that restaurant, she was watching me closely, totally on her guard the whole time. It was a little unnerving, but nothing compared to the panic I'd felt earlier. When our food arrived and I had begun to eat, she decided to speak up.  
  
"Kristy, I know that the school have asked you every question under the sun this morning." I nodded. "I also understand that the second time you fainted, it was while your friends were asking you questions about the first time you fainted." She put it more as a question than a statement, and I wasn't stupid enough to try to lie.  
  
"Yes, that's right."  
  
"Well, I certainly don't want to cause a third episode, but you understand, don't you, that I can't just let this go?" This time, the question sounded more like a statement. I nodded again, not happy about where this was going. "I'm not good at avoiding the point, or subtle interrogation, you know that." I certainly did. It was another family trait. "So you'll forgive me if I just cut to the chase?"  
  
"Of course." I couldn't help smiling. I should have known that Nannie would go straight for the tough questions.  
  
"Even if they are things you don't want to answer?" I nodded. "Okay then. For goodness sake, answer me honestly or not at all. There's no point otherwise. Are you eating properly?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Do you drink or do drugs?"  
  
"No!" I gave her a wounded look.  
  
"Oh, don't look so hurt. I know you don't. I have to ask. What if you did and I hadn't asked?" I had to grin. I mean, she had a point.  
  
"Are you seeing anybody at the moment?" She leaned in close with a wicked little smile, "I won't tell anyone if you are, I promise." I laughed.  
  
"We-ell, actually, yes. But I'm not saying who."  
  
"I knew it!" She exclaimed, looking unbelievably pleased with herself, "Oh, I knew it. You're in love!" I felt myself blush. "So here's my next question; when you've been going out this weekend, was it really with Abby, or was it with this mystery boyfriend?" I wasn't totally sure how to answer that one. I decided to just play it cool.  
  
"I was out with Abby." I replied, looking her in the eye. It wasn't like I was lying. She looked at me closely, and then nodded.  
  
"I believe you. Okay. Last question. What's going on with the faints?"  
  
"People kept going on and on at me... I couldn't handle it," I replied instantly. I didn't want anybody to worry about them any more than they already had. "I felt like I couldn't breathe properly, so I sucked in more and more air..."  
  
"And you suddenly found your surroundings disappearing before you blacked out?" interrupted Nannie. I nodded. "Panic attacks. Not really a problem, unless you have too many. You'll be alright. Let me know if it happens again, though." I nodded for what felt like the millionth time. "By the way, what were you panicking about?" She looked at me curiously.  
  
"Just...stuff." I answered lamely. She laughed.  
  
"Okay, if you don't want to tell me, I guess I can let it go for now. Have you finished lunch?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Then let's go home." She put her arm around me as we paid and left. I felt calmer than I had all weekend.


	15. Chapter 15

**Chapter 15.**  
  
I was in a world of my own in the car on the way home. Nannie kept up a steady stream of chat, and the radio was on, but I wasn't listening to either. I just kept thinking about how much easier it would be, how much better I'd be feeling right now if I'd told Nannie the truth when she asked, instead of giving her the lamest answer in the world. Maybe I was underestimating her. Maybe she would understand.  
  
I was still thinking when I realised that the car had stopped. I looked up, expecting to see our house, and instead I saw a car park. The radio had been switched off, and Nannie had pulled over, stopped talking and was now watching me closely. She smiled when I looked up at her.  
  
"You want to talk, I can tell." My face twisted into a wry smile. Yes, I wanted to talk. I just didn't know what to say, or how to say it. I decided to go with speaking my mind.  
  
"I want to talk... I just don't know how to start."  
  
"Well, that's something I never thought I'd hear you say." Nannie's smile turned into a grin and she put a hand on my shoulder comfortingly. I chewed on my bottom lip for a moment, barely acknowledging that she'd spoken. Her face softened a little, and a touch of concern came into her eyes. "What is it?" I opened my mouth to speak and promptly shut it again. She lifted my head so that she was looking into my eyes. "Don't you know that you can tell me anything?" There was a disconcerting look on her face. Almost... hurt. I knew she was used to me confiding in her. And I really wanted to.  
  
"I don't know what to say."  
  
"Well, how about starting with a basic full sentence, and we'll work from there." She smiled at me again. "Come on, it can't be that bad!"  
  
"It's not _bad_, it's just... big."  
  
"If it's not bad, then you should be able to tell me easily. I can handle big."  
  
"Okay... okay." I took a deep breath. "Okay, well, it has to do with the, um, person I've been seeing." Even though I was avoiding looking at her, I could see Nannie's eyebrows rise in anticipation. I looked up at her suddenly. "You won't tell anyone will you? Not even Mum or Watson?" She hesitated slightly. "I'm not doing anything wrong," I rushed on, "I just don't want everybody to know yet." Nannie looked at me closely, and gave me a satisfied nod.  
  
"Okay. If you're not doing anything wrong, I don't see why I shouldn't keep it to myself."  
  
"Good. Great. Thanks." Here, I lost my voice again. Not because I wasn't sure if I should talk, but because I didn't know how to go on. There was a moment of silence, and then Nannie rolled her eyes.  
  
"It's not bad. You're not doing anything wrong. Apparently it has something to do with whoever you've been dating. I'm trusting you enough to agree not to tell anybody, despite the fact that I don't know what you're going to say. You still can't tell me? Come on, now. What is it about this boy?"  
  
"It's not." I replied quickly, shutting my eyes.  
  
"Not what?" replied Nannie, her voice confused. I opened one eye slightly, and looked slowly up at her.  
  
"I'm not dating a guy." 


	16. Chapter 16

Hi! Big thanks to all reviewers, as usual. Pinkputtytats: I _have_ read your story (The BSC move on) and I'm loving it! I've been reviewing (check out the screen names above your reviews, I'm stargirlie) Please don't stop writing. 15 reviews for 3 chapters really isn't at all bad.

Anyway, here's chapter 16. Hope you all like it. R&R, please! :o)

**Chapter 16.  
**  
The confusion in her voice was mirrored on her face for a moment, followed by a look of vague comprehension, turning suddenly into one of complete and utter shock. She opened her mouth, shut it, opened it again, and the look of shock was slowly replaced by one of understanding.  
  
"Abby?" she asked quietly. I nodded, opened my eyes properly, and looked at her, silently begging her to react. She nodded slowly for a long time, without speaking. It might have been less than a minute, I don't know. But it felt like _hours_. I couldn't take it.  
  
"Well _say_ something then! Talk to me. Ask me something. Yell at me. Cry, if you like! But do _something_." She let out a short laugh.  
  
"I'm not going to cry. Or yell at you, for that matter. Why would I?" I didn't have an answer to that one. "It's just a... bit of a surprise, Kristy," her voice changed to a mutter, "I don't know why." I felt my eyes widen, and when she realised that she'd said that last part out loud, Nannie looked up again and grinned apologetically. "Oh, come on. It shouldn't surprise me. I mean, I know you've dated, but it was never serious with the boys, was it? You never really saw them as romances?  
  
"No." I shook my head and blushed slightly.  
  
"But it is serious now?"  
  
"I think so." She returned to her slow nodding, and this time I kept quiet. I could see that she was trying to think. She faced me suddenly.  
  
"Does being with Abby make you happy? Are you sure this isn't just... experimentation?"  
  
"Yes," I replied immediately. "To both."  
  
"Then I'm happy for you." She answered simply. I searched her face for something, anything to contradict what she was saying. I found nothing. She smiled at me, gave me a big hug, and tucked a loose strand of hair behind my ear.  
  
We chatted for a while, and I told her how scared I'd been to tell anyone, especially the family. She nodded sympathetically, but I could tell what she was thinking.  
  
"You think I should tell Mum and Watson, don't you."  
  
"I don't think they'd react as badly as you think they might." She admitted. "I don't think they'd mind, as long as you were happy, which – it's fairly obvious – you are. They might be surprised. Shocked, even, at first. But they'd get over it."  
  
"I don't want them to know yet." She hugged me again.  
  
"Nobody but you is going to tell them," she assured me, "when you change your mind, I'll be there. One hundred per cent behind you. Okay?"  
  
"Okay."  
  
"Good. Now, what do you say we go home?"  
  
"I'd love to." As we readjusted our seatbelts and Nannie started up the car, I realised that I felt literally as if something large and heavy had been lifted off of my chest. I was also absolutely exhausted.


	17. Chapter 17

Hi! Big hugs and massive thanks to all my reviewers, as usual (I can't believe I have over 50 reviews! :oD) Sorry it's been a while - I went on holiday, and didn't really have access to the internet (argh!) This is it folks! Last chapter. From my reviews so far, I'm not sure that'll be a popular decision, but never mind.

Chanelle: I'm 20. It _is_ a weird question, but I don't mind! Just out of curiosity, why do you want to know? Sorry again for the lack of updates recently - like I said, on holiday. With Grandparents. Don't ask.

Work is already underway on another story, kind of a sequel, I think, well, definitely related anyway, written in a different style and involving more of the BSC characters, possibly with more people finding out about Kristy and Abby. Please let me know if this is a good idea, and also r&r this final chapter! Thanks and enjoy! :oD

**Chapter 17.**

Nannie was true to her word: she didn't say a thing about me and Abby. When we arrived home, she took Watson aside and told him about my panic attacks (Mum wasn't home yet). He looked extremely worried, but she calmed him down. I knew I wasn't supposed to be listening, but I couldn't help it. I wanted to know what she was saying.

"There's nothing wrong with her. Do you think I can't tell?"

"But if she fainted..."

"Watson, listen to me. She's fine. We wouldn't have even been called if it hadn't been twice in one day. Now, she told me what happened, and I'm absolutely positive it's just panic attacks. Which were probably brought on by you and Elizabeth going on and on at her all weekend. Plus, I don't think she slept much last night. We'll all keep an eye on her for a couple of days, but just, well, back off. And help me convince Liz to back off, too. If there are any more problems, then we should intervene. But I don't think there will be." He didn't look totally convinced, but he nodded.

"Okay, if you think that's best." He raised his voice, "Kristy,"

"Yes?" I replied, going into the room.

"How are you feeling?"

"Alright."

"Good. Why don't you go and rest, and then later you could try some of that homework?"

"Sure." I went upstairs to my room, and lay down on my bed, expecting to have trouble sleeping.

I woke up several hours later, far more relaxed and feeling much better. Everybody had arrived home, and I could hear them all downstairs, trying to be quiet, obviously having been told that I was asleep. I grinned and heaved myself up off of the bed. Glancing in the mirror, I quickly straightened my clothes and re-tied my hair. Then I took a deep breath and went downstairs.

Four people jumped up when I entered the kitchen. I laughed.

"Don't look so worried! I feel much better."

"Better enough to eat down here with us?" asked Nannie, turning from the stove and giving me a smile.

"Definitely."

"Good. Because you're just in time." I took my place at the kitchen table and talked to the kids for a while. They seemed to relax a little once I started chatting to them. They must have been worried.

"Oh, by the way," spoke up Charlie, "Abby said to tell you don't worry, the meeting went fine and she'll call you later to see how you are."

"Thanks," I said to him, in a slight state of shock. That had to be the first time ever that I had forgotten about a meeting completely. Also, I hate to admit it, but it was the first time ever that Abby being in charge of the meeting hadn't worried me at all. Just then the phone rang. It was her. We talked for a few minutes, as openly as we could. I told her I was feeling much better emotionally as well as physically, and would without a doubt see her at school the next day. I mentioned that I had had a long talk with Nannie, and told her 'all my secrets'. She wasn't mad or upset; in fact she didn't even seem surprised. She told me simply that she was glad I had someone I could open up to, and that she was relieved if it meant that I wouldn't be fainting randomly anymore. I laughed, and apologised for my extreme lack of cool under pressure. She told me it was fine, she hadn't started going out with me for my cool any more than she had for my chest size. I made the decision not to get into that particular discussion right then.

During that conversation, Abby reminded me that I don't need to be in control. I admitted out loud, for the first time ever, that she was right. She told me it was time to make use of that – use it for my own benefit, by not letting things worry me so much, especially other peoples' opinions. I agreed. Before we hung up, she told me again that she loved me.

As I looked around the big, noisy kitchen table, filled with food, laughter and people, I thought about the last few days. I still don't feel I'm able to be totally honest with my whole family. I'm still not sure I'll ever be able to tell them everything. But I don't think I'm going to rot in hell for all eternity, either. I mean, everybody has their secrets, right? Some are just bigger than others. I know for a fact that my parents and older brothers don't tell me half of what they get up to – and that's fine, because I'm fairly certain I wouldn't want to know.

My Mum came to talk to me after dinner that night, while I was attempting my homework. Watson had obviously spoken to her. She nervously asked me if I really was alright. It was the first time I had ever seen her at all unsure of herself. It was comforting, in a way. Before she left my room that night, she apologized for over-dramatising things. I think it was then that I realised that the only reason my Mum doesn't tell me she loves me is that she doesn't like to state the obvious. I wonder how she would react, if I told her about Abby. Maybe one day I will. Maybe one day I'll get up the courage to tell her who I really am, and not even care what her reaction is. Maybe I'll never be that strong. Maybe this is one area where I'll never actually make a decision. A week ago that thought would have filled me with horror. Now it makes me smile.


End file.
